


Untitled No. 5

by sayde



Series: The Untitled's [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayde/pseuds/sayde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He’s about to take a sip of the tea when someone bursts through the door. He stills, holding the mug so that it’s just touching his lips, examining the figure that came through the door; He’s tall, lanky. There’s a mop of unruly, chocolate brown hair dotted with snow and then he turns around and--</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Louis thinks he may be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>or the one where Louis and Harry meet on a lonely Valentine's Day and keep each other company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled No. 5

**Author's Note:**

> so I meant to post this on Valentine's but I completely blanked-- better late than never, I guess, right? Cool. I hope you like it, thanks for reading :)))

“What the actual fuck, why the _fuck_ is it snowing in _February_ , I hate everything, oh my _god_ ,” Louis’ rambling curses under his breath, gripping himself tighter in his coat as he shuffles through this blizzard of sorts. “Of course, not only am I single and alone on fucking _Valentine’s Day_ , but I have to walk through a fucking _blizzard_ to get to where I want to go.”

He shakes his head to himself and struggles to readjust his sleeves without letting his jacket open completely before speeding up, knowing that he only has another block or so till he gets to the cafe. He finally spots it, a mere few yards away, and he almost shouts with joy. He runs full speed at the door, slowing down just barely to stick his hands out in front of him so that he would open it _before_ running into it. When he gets inside he nearly cries out of relief, loving being greeted by warmth and the smell of cookies baking. He shakes the snow of out his hair and peels off his coat and scarf, hanging it on the coat rack by the door before sitting down in his regular booth in the corner. 

“Louis, love, is that you?” A voice calls out from the back room.

“‘M afraid it is, Lucy, lonely ol’ Louis coming to see you on this god forsaken holiday,” Louis calls back, smiling a little.

“Oh, honey, so glad you’re here,” Lucy shuffles out of the back room and through the counter to greet Louis with a warm hug. He loves the plump old lady, loves her with all his heart, but can’t help but be a bit saddened that he’s here, still single.

“Oi, Lou, what’ll it be?” 

Louis looks up to see Emma behind the counter, smiling at him. She’s his best friend, ever since Lucy had tried to set them up and Louis had to break the news that he is, in fact, quite gay, and he rolls his eyes knowing she just asked to irk him.

“Em, you know the drill, fix me something random, surprise me,” He says in a loud and flamboyant voice, throwing a hand in the air to flick his wrist at her. “My my, _darling_ , I would think you would know that by now.”

Emma giggles and winks at him, disappearing to go make him a warm drink. Lucy hugs him one last time before returning to the back room to bake, leaving Louis alone in his corner. He pulls out a book and sighs, wondering when exactly he became the cliche _reading in a cafe with a warm drink_ type, but decides he doesn’t exactly care and begins to read anyway. Emma comes with some raspberry tea and heart-shaped chocolate cookies and Louis’ pretty sure he wants to build a monument in her honor. He’s about to take a sip of the tea when someone bursts through the door. He stills, holding the mug so that it’s just touching his lips, examining the figure that came through the door; He’s tall, lanky. There’s a mop of unruly, chocolate brown hair dotted with snow and then he turns around and--

Louis thinks he may be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. His features are chiseled and sharp, and he has the prettiest eyes; the kind of green that you can tell would be bright and piercing during the summer, but turn a dark and subdued green in the winter. Louis’ jaw drops when the man takes his coat off. His arms are muscular, tanned and dotted with tattoos. His plain black t-shirt accentuates his collarbones, and there are more tattoos peeking just out of the collar of his shirt. He makes eye contact with Louis and smiles, wide and beautiful, and Louis almost drops his tea and passes out altogether. When he realizes he’s been staring, Louis snaps his mouth shut quickly and sets his tea down, pretending to busy himself with his book. He hears Lucy shuffle out and take the boys’ order, and Louis can just barely hear his voice, can’t quite make out what he’s saying. He watches in his peripheral vision as the man looks around before striding over to him. 

“Uhm, can I sit here?” His voice is raspy and deep and sends chills down Louis’ spine. Louis eyes him over the top of his book.

“I don’t know, _can_ you?” Louis says it and immediately regrets it, wanting to smack a hand to his forehead and call himself a sorry sod of a person right then and there. He suppresses that urge, though. Luckily for him, the other man just laughs.

“Pardon me, I mean, _may_ I sit here?” His mouth is stretched into a grin when he says this, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Louis gives him a shy nod and he sits, studying Louis curiously when he looks back down at his book.

“I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Styles,” he drawls while looking at Louis intently.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he quips, stretching out his hand for Harry to shake. They shake hands and there’s a moment of silence as Emma brings Harry his order; peppermint tea and some hobnobs.

“So, Louis, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in a cafe on Valentine’s day?”

Louis blushes and clucks his tongue at him.

“Tsk tsk, Harry, what would your girlfriend do if she knew you said that?” His tone is light and teasing, but Harry looks him dead in the eyes.

“I would imagine she wouldn’t do anything, seeing as she doesn’t exist and I’m gay,” He says, voice slow and dry.

Louis smirks at him before closing his book.

“Well, Harry, I think my night just got two times better.”

~

“And what about this one?” Louis traces the cursive ‘G’ on Harry’s right shoulder lightly.

“Oh, ‘G’ is for Gemma, my sister,” He says, voice just above a whisper.

They’re currently in Louis’ flat, laying by the fire discussing the meaning of Harry’s tattoos. When they’d finished their drinks, Louis invited Harry over and they’d run together back to his flat. The pair had gotten in and Louis quickly made some tea while Harry started a fire. They drank their tea, had some conversation, one thing led to another, and Louis was halfway on top of a very shirtless Harry asking him about each of his tattoos. 

“Oi, I missed some on that side, didn’t I?” Louis says, motioning over to Harry’s left arm. He starts to get up, but Harry grabs onto his hips and pulls him down, moving him so that he’s straddling the shirtless boy.

“There, that’s better,” Harry says smirking.

Louis rolls his eyes at him and almost chokes when he’s tugged at again, this time all the way down so that their chests are pressed together and Louis has an elbow on either side of Harry’s head.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, still smirking.

“I-uh- yeah, hi,” Louis stammers back, cheeks flushing pink.

“Are you going to keep asking me about my tattoos or can I kiss you now?” Harry rasps out and Louis shivers, unable to respond.

Harry clearly decides on the latter and tilts his head up slightly to catch Louis’ lips with his, slow and languid. He bites down lightly on Louis’ lower lip, drawing a soft whine from him. They continue like this, kissing sloppily, all slick and full of tongue, and it’s not long before Louis’ involuntarily grinding his hips down into Harry’s. They’re both hard and desperate and Louis wants more, needs more. 

“Want to blow you,” Louis mumbles, moving to kiss along Harry’s jaw and down his neck, stopping to suck on his pulse point.

“I- yeah, fuck, okay,” Harry says, nodding furiously. 

Louis smiles and kisses him one more time before moving down, grazing his teeth on Harry’s nipples and biting at his moth tattoo on the way down. He unzips Harry’s jeans quickly, taking his time in tugging them down all the way before mouthing at his cock through his briefs. Harry groans and lifts his hips slightly, groaning something about getting on with it, and Louis just giggles and clucks his tongue.

“Try to stay still, would you? Won’t put my mouth on you if you’re not good,” He says, his lips still pressed against Harry’s dick. 

Harry stops moving right away, planting his hips down and halting his basically-writhing torso. Louis smiles at him and bites at his hips a little before pulling his pants down all the way.

Louis’ always been good at giving head, he knows this, been given loads of praise from past boyfriends and one night stands. And he fucking _loves_ it. A lot of men are somewhat indifferent about blowing someone, but Louis, well Louis loves nothing more than having his mouth closed around a cock. He likes having the weight of it on his tongue, likes how bitter and salty come is. But his favorite thing is finding out what makes people tick, what gets them to come so hard they’re unable to function for a few minutes, and he’s really good at finding that “tick” very quickly. 

He noses at Harry’s prick first, wrapping a too-loose fist around him and stroking upward once. He kitten licks at the head a little, then wraps his mouth around it, sucking on it like a piece of candy. Harry just continues groaning like he’d been doing before and Louis furrows his eyebrows in concentration. He wraps a hand around Harry again, using his thumb to trace a large vein on the underside, but nothing’s changed, Harry’s still keeping his hips down and making small sounds. Louis purses his lips and drags his forefinger down to Harry’s balls, taking in the way his legs open a little wider, then pulling his finger down farther until it’s circling Harry’s rim. He gasps at this, moaning out a desperate _please_ , and Louis smiles again before taking Harry into his mouth completely.He bobs his head up and down shallowly a few times, paying special attention to the head to collect precome. He sinks down lower until Harry’s hitting the back of his throat, making him moan around his cock and sending a shudder through Harry.

“Jesus, _fuck_ , your _mouth_ ,” Harry sputters, and Louis hums around him, drawing out a long groan from the man.

He bobs up and down a few more times before Harry’s swearing, “I’m so close, Louis, fuck, _please_ ,” and Louis pulls off completely. Harry chokes on his own breath, almost letting out a sob, and Louis’ taking him back into his mouth, trailing a spit-slick finger down his balls and to his hole. Harry gasps again, loud and breathy and needy, and Louis presses at it, not hard enough to go in, but a good amount of pressure, and Harry’s coming, arching his back and shouting curses and Louis’ name. Louis sucks him through it, humming happily and swallowing before moving back up Harry’s body to kiss him hard. 

“Fuck, so good, Louis, so fucking gorgeous,” Harry mumbles against his lips as he unbuttons Louis’ jeans, pushing them and his boxers down to wrap a hand around him. It doesn’t take long to get Louis off, a few strokes and he’s whimpering, coating Harry’s hand and stomach with his come. He collapses on top of Harry, scrunching his nose at how sweaty and sticky it is, but unable to bring himself to move. They lay there panting for a while, kissing every now and then in between smiles, and Louis eventually rolls off to lay down next to Harry. He’s glad, his hard wood floor should be uncomfortable, especially for Harry by now, but it’s nice, cool in contrast to his still burning skin. 

“Damn, my girlfriend is going to be pissed,” Harry says sarcastically, laughing when Louis looks over at him, attempting a glare.

“Reckon you’ll have to leave her for me, then,” He quips, letting his eyes start to flutter shut.

“Yeah, reckon I will,” Harry whispers. “So on a scale of one to ten, how _awesome_ did I make your Valentine’s Day?”

He gets a smack in the face for that one.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm getting better at endings.... let me know whatcha think :)))


End file.
